


highest high

by Zekkass



Series: Dragons and Harpies [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, harpy!Sam, knight!steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1849708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zekkass/pseuds/Zekkass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Steve meets Sam, he thinks he's an angel.</p><p>[A prequel to 'don't burn the bridge', set long before Steve became a lord.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	highest high

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for hc-bingo over at LJ for the 'stranded / survival scenario' square. It was also egged on by pandelion, because she really likes harpies.
> 
> A few things: one, I am planning to write more pieces in this 'verse, ideally pieces set before and after 'don't burn the bridge', time-wise. I think this stands alone fine, though.
> 
> Second, this 'verse's version of AUed canon events does not include Steve getting frozen anywhere for seventy years.
> 
> Third, in future pieces I may start picking out pairings, but as of right now the door is open for my indecision, so at most there's just subtext if you look for it. If future pieces have pairings, I'll include them in the tags.
> 
> Finally, enjoy!

Sam's in the air when he first spots the human struggling up the mountain, easily picking out the small details of the man's movement as he struggles through the waist-high snow.

It's a quick decision - the air's biting cold even through his feathers, and he wants to know why the man's climbing _up_ the mountain in this season. He dives, folding his wings, descending rapidly, opening them before he needs to, gliding over the snow and circling the man, slowly coming lower. Every beat of his wings is painfully cold, moreso as he gets close enough for disturbed snow to come up and cling to his feathers.

"Hey," he calls as he comes up behind the man. "On your right."

The man turns, the wind shoving at the hood, and Sam picks out details: the man is blond, blue-eyed, clearly exhausted.

The hover is a strain to hold, but Sam manages, the heat from the exertion the best reason to do it.

"Hey," he repeats. "What are you doing up here?"

The man shades his eyes, looking up at him. He blinks rapidly, then shakes his head, snow coming off of the hood.

"Who - ?" He even sounds tired.

"I'm Sam. I'm a friendly."

"I'm...Steve. Can we talk while I walk?"

Sam shrugs. "Sure. Where are you going? The summit? It's a long climb and you don't look fit for it." He's not offering an airlift, not up there. Down to safer resting spots sure, maybe, if he's not too heavy.

Steve doesn't ask for one, putting one foot in front of the other, still struggling through the snow. It's not a straight path to the summit, but it's still going up.

"There's a ravine nearby," Steve says. "I need to search it."

"What's in it?"

"My friend."

Sam's wings briefly stop beating, and he jerks back to attention as his talons sink into snow, and he climbs a little bit, breathing, staring at the man.

The blizzard had gone all night, and the only reason he's out this high today is because the skies cleared after dropping all that snow down. There's no way a human could have scaled the mountain overnight, and that leaves the option of getting into the ravine before the blizzard, and lasting through it - 

He hopes they're looking for a survivor. From the way Steve said the words he thinks they are.

"I'll help you look," Sam says, coming back down. "How much further ahead?"

"Not far," Steve says, trudging onwards. He looks towards Sam again. "...Thank you."

Sam nods, opting not to ask for the whole story, instead providing silent company on the slow flight up to a sudden drop-off.

Steve almost steps into the very ravine he's looking for, and Sam darts around and down and up, shoving Steve bodily back into the snow, awkwardly hopping off of him and sitting in the snow, his pulse pounding in his ears, heat in contrast to the chill settling into his bones.

"Not doing that again," Sam says, before struggling up, wing brushing Steve's arm on accident as he shoves past him to the ledge, hopping off himself, flapping his wings and rising up, circling around to hover. "So what's the plan?"

Steve looks at him, eyes bleary from exhaustion, and he leans out, scanning the ravine. "...We start looking. He fell somewhere around here."

"Don't you dare fall," Sam says. "I'll scan the bottom. See if I can't find any sign of him."

"Thanks," Steve says, and he crouches, scanning the ravine as he undoes the strings holding his hood up, wind immediately raking it back.

"Anything in particular I should look for?" Sam asks. "Does he know we're coming?"

Steve shakes his head, pain crossing his face, and Sam's stomach drops out from under him.

"I don't know if he made it," Steve says, a hitch in his voice, and Sam comes closer.

"When did he fall?" Sam asks, blunt. He knows that kind of grief. It's the kind that makes him worry, especially now that there's a life-threatening drop right there. He hopes Steve isn't out here to jump, but he doesn't know Steve.

"Last night," Steve says.

Sam lands in front of Steve, awkwardly standing on flat, snowy ground, and he reaches out, resting the arm of his wing on Steve's shoulder.

"We won't find anything before you freeze," he says.

"I have to try."

"No, you don't. The snow was coming down in buckets, so wherever he fell, he's gone. You need to get out of here and warm up, Steve."

He doesn't have the dexterity needed to get that hood back up over Steve's head, but he keeps his eyes locked on Steve's, and waits until the man nods.

"Good," Sam says, and he pulls his wing back. "Get that hood up and turn around. I'll give you a ride down."

Steve looks at him for a long moment, then smiles. It's weak, tired, not all there - but it's real gratitude, and he pulls himself up, pulling the hood back on.

Sam looks around, then gets into the air again via the ledge, testing the wind before steeling himself and flying down, taking hold of Steve's shoulders. "Grab on," he says, and Steve reaches up, holding onto his ankles with an iron grip. "Think light thoughts. _Light_ thoughts."

He doesn't wait for an answer, beginning to beat his wings harder, regretting ever offering this - Steve's the opposite of light, it's like trying to carry an entire stag, something only greedy fools do, but at least - at least he's not struggling.

They make it into the air, rising up until Sam's sure Steve's boots won't catch in the snow, and now - now it gets a little easier. It's all downhill from here, and Sam might strain something, but he begins the flight, winging it for somewhere, anywhere to land that won't be high up on a mountainside.

-

The only thing Steve thinks the whole way down is that his first impression was spot-on, that the winged figure descending from the light was an angel. It's not something to admit in casual company, harpies being what they are - but right now Steve could care less, watching the snow fly past.

He thinks about Bucky; has to close his eyes. He's not falling, he's flying. Bucky - it's not the same thing. At the bottom he'll have a long trek to make back to the Queen's lands, and then she'll royally chew him out, like he deserves for deserting them.

When he opens his eyes again, he's not passing over snow, he's passing over trees. Somewhere beyond that forest, near the base of the mountain, should be his friends, his fellow knights marching towards home.

He closes his eyes, willing the rest of it to pass by quickly, willing himself awake.

It doesn't quite take.

-

Sam drops Steve on snow-covered grass, the gentlest landing he's going to get, and collapses on the ground next to him, panting.

"You have got to eat less," he says, eyes closing before he makes himself sit up, wings a solid ache. Everything aches. The flight was long and hard and he knew he should have stopped before the trees, shouldn't have gone for the whole forest, dumb move - 

He looks over at Steve and realizes that his passenger is still asleep, even though he's lying in a heap.

"...How far did you push yourself?"

Steve doesn't answer.

Sam sighs and pushes himself a little further, getting up enough to straighten Steve out, then sighing when he realizes that the nearest shelter is who-knows how far away. This wasn't in the plan.

None of this was in the plan, he was just out to stretch his wings and maybe spot some errant prey for lunch, but nooo, he had to go and get curious about another human.

Well, he knows what comes next: either he leaves now and can't live with himself, or he keeps this human alive and warm the hard way.

Sam carefully scoots closer and wraps his wings - and therefore himself - around Steve, propping a talon around Steve's legs, and he settles in to wait, peeking at the face under the hood as he does.

It's a good looking face, and Steve seems like a good guy.

"Hope you're worth it," Sam mutters, because he's going to find out, one way or another.


End file.
